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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26438140">The Glenn Close After School Special</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EVVS/pseuds/EVVS'>EVVS</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Basically this is my theoretical second Glenn Arc, Gen, Generational Trauma, Or at least it's what I'm hoping and dreaming of, Set after the second Henry Arc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:48:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,181</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26438140</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EVVS/pseuds/EVVS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey there, kids,” exhaled Darryl slowly while propping himself up on his elbows. “We were, uh, hoping to let you guys sleep ‘til morning. We’re all back, no one’s hurt, just don’t worry about it, kids, we’ll talk in the morning, yeah?”</p><p>There was a pause. “We might wan’ to talk now though,” said Walter with his usual warble, now sitting upright. He stroked his beard, showing time had passed. “There was a bit of an incident…”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bill Close &amp; Glenn Close, Glenn Close &amp; Nicolas Close</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Track One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The opening track sets the whole tone for the album...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wrangling three kids over the course of a long walk to and from Oakvale was enough to sap the energy out of any good dad. Now if those three kids were Lark, Sparrow, and Paeden? It took the energy of four mostly okay dads.</p><p>Luckily, they had to sleep at some point. So with Darryl carrying Lark, Henry cradling Sparrow, and Paeden on Ron’s back (they were brothers, after all), they trekked back into Walter’s waterfall camp. The one with nothing behind the waterfall, much to Glenn’s disappointment.</p><p>Once the twins were down for the night with the others, curled up like a pair of bloodthirsty kittens, it felt like, for just a second, they could breathe.</p><p>So Glenn sat down and felt the ache of his back start to fade. Darryl, sure enough, groaned loudly as he was finally horizontal for the first time in hours. Ron just… somehow melted into the ground as he plopped down on his stomach next to Terry Jr. Paeden still laid across his back, out cold like any good homunculi.</p><p>“Hold up guys, I’m just gonna wake Walter up here,” murmured Henry softly as he stepped over Grant, narrowly missing his fingers. “Walter, hey, Walter.”</p><p>The bullywug woke up with a start and a “Whuh whuh whuh” and a wild flail of an axe that narrowly missed Henry’s nose.</p><p>“Woah, Walter, careful there! You coulda taken my head off!”</p><p>“Oh, s’just you.” He put the axe down and scrunched up his face to try to peer at Henry through the darkness. “Wa’nt sure when you daddies were gon’ get back.”</p><p>“Dad?” came the sleepy voice of Grant followed closely by Terry Jr. with, “Ron, you’re way too close.”</p><p>Glenn sighed, knowing that next would come-</p><p>“Friends!” in perfect synchronization.</p><p>Sleep felt like a distant memory. From about two days ago. Maybe even a whole other realm ago. And now it seemed even further away.</p><p>Glenn tilted his head back against the rock and let his eyes slide shut. He didn’t have to worry about wrangling these kids, these were Henry’s boys. Not his problem. He could kick back and catch some z’s.</p><p>“Hey there, kids,” exhaled Darryl slowly while propping himself up on his elbows. “We were, uh, hoping to let you guys sleep ‘til morning. We’re all back, no one’s hurt, just don’t worry about it, kids, we’ll talk in the morning, yeah?”</p><p>There was a pause. “We might wan’ to talk now though,” said Walter with his usual warble, now sitting upright. He stroked his beard, showing time had passed. “There was a bit of an incident…”</p><p>“But it wasn’t Walter’s fault,” emphasized Terry Jr. quickly. “It was late, and he was already asleep, but there was someone who’d found us-“</p><p>“They must’ve followed us back from the Glenn Bowl stadium,” interjected Grant.</p><p>Darryl, against any human being’s better judgment, clarified with the utmost confidence: “In Balls Deep.”</p><p>Grant made a sound like both a groan and a whine but with twice as much embarrassment.</p><p>It was only here, as Glenn found that sweet spot between consciousness and his dreams that he felt… a sort of void. One he wasn’t unfamiliar with, but the kind that felt very, <em>very</em> wrong.</p><p>Terry Jr. put a hand on Grant’s shoulder. “Based on what I learned at… well, my fake dad’s tower, there was some kind of enchantment, I think. I was able to ward myself, and it didn’t seem to affect Grant.“ To which Grant shrugged apathetically. “Walter didn’t hear it over his own snoring, apparently...”</p><p>“Oh jeez, boys, what happened?” asked Henry, getting into a huff.</p><p>Glenn sat up and started a headcount. Five sons, five dads. Ten.</p><p>The three testimonies were as follows:</p><p>“It was a voice that was calling out.”</p><p>“It sounded like it was coming from everywhere.”</p><p>“I dunno, I wa’ asleep real good.”</p><p>Why did the count feel bad? He paired them all off instead. Darryl and Darryl’s kid. Henry and Henry’s kids. Ron and Ron’s kid. Walter and Paeden. Himself and…</p><p>“Hey, guys? Where’s Nick?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>More tags will show up as needed, but honestly, this is partially what I think the Natural 1 encounter table roll is gonna end up being but also what I can only hope the Glenn Close second arc will look like. I'm fascinated by his character and how much growing he has left to do compared to the other dads.</p><p>Also, he's objectively the worst.</p><p>I did try to mimic a lot of the speech/vocal patterns of the dads in the podcast, so that's why some things may read a little weird.</p><p>Feel free to yell at me at skylarkevanson.tumblr.com.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Track Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The best part of the journey... is definitely "Don't Stop Believin'".</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Henry, calm down!” urged the leaves that made up Erin O’Neil’s face. “I can figure out where Glenn’s kid is, I just need to prepare the right spells. Give me until dawn, and I’ll get back to you.” If a pile of leaves could look frustrated, it was this pile of leaves. And in a gust of wind, the visage of Erin O’Neil was gone.</p><p>“I don’t think she likes you much,” remarked Terry Jr.</p><p>“Yeah, well, it’s because I’m a vegetarian!”</p><p>Under his breath, somewhere about ten feet away, Ron unrelatedly mumbled under his breath, “And I ain’t fuckin’ scared of him.”</p><p>“What was that, Ron?” Henry piped up.</p><p>“Oh, nothing.”</p><p>“Oh, okay.”</p><p>In all of this, Glenn felt like he had water in his ears. Off-balance. Almost like coming down from a concert high. Adrenaline and fog at the same time.</p><p>“Guess we can’t do much ‘til morning,” sighed Darryl, taking off his hat to scratch at his scalp. “Just try to get some shuteye, kids. We’ll get Nick back, don’t worry.”</p><p>Henry put a jacket over the twins like a blanket. “Erin’ll help us out, she- she respects plants and so plants help her in return. And she’ll find out where Nick is, and we’ll go get him tomorrow, no problem, right guys?”</p><p>“He’ll be fine,” Glenn assured as he pulled his shades down over his eyes and leaned back against a rock. “He’s a Close boy, and we Close boys can do anything, especially when we’re flyin’ solo.”</p><p>It was said to reassure the others. A little bit to assure himself.</p><p>What he didn’t see was the nervous glances exchanged between Henry, Ron, and Darryl…<br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/>The vehicle that Walter’d built in their absence - dubbed The Station Wagon - wasn’t quite Odyssey-san, but it certainly smelled better than horses and was less maintenance. And it’d be a much easier ride to Meth Bay, which was conveniently where both Nick and the anchor were.</p><p>Darryl kept looking in the tiny shard of mirror that made up the rearview, making eye contact with Henry. Like he was waiting for something.</p><p>Glenn, however, was in the “passenger seat”, which wasn’t very structurally sound but got the job done. He had his arm out the window, doing what he told Henry was “the Rebecca Black dolphin thing, y’kno?”, which Henry did not know.</p><p>“Hey, Glenn, how, uh, how’re you holding up? With Nick gone and all?” asked Henry, leaning forward in the lurching vehicle. “Y’kno, you didn’t seem very stressed last night. And, honestly, you didn’t seem worried about the fact that he’s alone out there in the world right now. Kidnapped for a second time, I might add.” His voice found that line of chastising and toed it very carefully.</p><p>Glenn shrugged. “Last time he was kidnapped, he fell in with a band of bandits, right? I’m sure he’s found a new band, and he’s probably doin’ just fine. He’s a good kid, he takes care of himself alright.”</p><p>Like in high school, Glenn found his people. The stoners he bought weed from, the quarterbacks he sold weed to, the girls he smoked weed with. He always had a band, even if instruments weren’t involved.</p><p>Nick found a bunch of criminals to hang out with. Close enough to his own kind of band. Sort of.</p><p>There was more eye contact in the rearview.</p><p>“Hey, Glenn, I don’t mean to pry,” inserted Darryl cautiously, “but… you told us about Morgan's passing, and we were wondering… we were just sorta wondering who takes care of Nick while you’re gone on tour?”</p><p>“Sometimes old high school friends of mine, sometimes babysitters or whatever. Morgan’s old friends help out when they can… I dunno, Nick kinda coordinates most of it himself. Hard to make those calls when you’re internationally famous, amirite?” He held up a hand to Ron for a high five.</p><p>Ron did not high five him back.</p><p>“Glenn, Darryl and Henry and I think you are objectively the worst dad among us. And that’s saying something ‘cause I’m not really even a dad, I’m just a stepdad. I don’t even qualify for the standards of testing, but I’m still doing better than you.”</p><p>“Jeez, Ron!”</p><p>“C'mon, Ron!”</p><p>Glenn rolled his eyes and leaned more towards the window, the dolphin arm long forgotten. “It wasn’t even a compliment sandwich this time,” he grumbled. He was well aware of what the other dads thought of him. The drugs. The absence. He knew. He’d known for years it wasn’t ideal.</p><p>He just didn’t know how to be a better dad.</p><p>“We’re worried about Nick same as you are,” Henry said slowly, putting a hand on Glenn’s shoulder from the backseat. “And we can see how much you love him, and none of us are in your position of- of being a single dad. It’s gotta be tough.”</p><p>“It’s…” He shrugged off Henry’s hand. “It is what it is. We’re Close boys, we make it work. Hell, if I can make an international Christmas music cover band work, there’s nothing we can’t do!”</p><p>Ron piped up from the backseat to add, “Except for be a good fa-“</p><p>“A good facialist!” Henry added while slapping a hand over Ron’s mouth. “Right? Everyone’s gotta have someone to- to open up their pores or whatever, right? My beautiful wife, Mercedes Oak-Garcia, she’s had the same one for years!”</p><p>Glenn Close was not a wise man, but he knew enough songs about wise men to know when to call bullshit.</p><p>He just didn’t say it out loud.</p><p>“Uh, hey, guys?” Darryl interrupted, leaning forward over the semblance of a steering wheel that Walter had put in The Station Wagon. The vehicle rolled to a gentle stop. “Based on Erin’s instructions, which were not as good as MapQuest... I think we’re here?”</p><p>Outside was an odd house, something that definitely didn’t look like it was from this world. It was a single story ranch home with the kind of architecture that looked maybe a little bit southern. There was a rundown porch, and a couple of the windows were missing their shutters. Some of the windows were even covered in newspaper from the inside.</p><p>“Oh shit.” Glenn fumbled with the seatbelt that Walter had installed at Darryl’s request, trying to get out of the car.</p><p>“Glenn, what’s-“</p><p>“Glenn, do you know-“</p><p>Their questions were lost as the seatbelt finally released, and Glenn clambered from the car.</p><p>“Hey, Glenn!”</p><p>“Glenn!”</p><p>He stood in the brown patches of grass, looking the whole place over, looking for a single wrong detail. Because it was impossible.</p><p>Behind him stood three concerned dads. “What is this place, Glenn?”</p><p>For a long moment, he was quiet. But all the details were right. It was impossible, but it was here.</p><p>“Glenn? Are you okay, man?” Henry asked, exchanging a very different kind of glance with the other two.</p><p>“It’s the Crash Pad,” he said in absolute disbelief. “Home.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I want to note that Paeden is not on this one! Why? Because I will often forget him and I'm already juggling a lot of unfamiliar characters! And I've got a bunch of other stuff to worry about, so why throw another child in the mix that isn't immediately relevant to this arc?</p><p>Anyways, it might seem like a cop out, but I'm comfortable with my choices.</p><p>Feel free to chat DnDads with me over at skylarkevanson.tumblr.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Track Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Some artists find their greatest inspiration at home...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a dense silence, the kind that felt like the final commercial break before the end of an episode of "24".</p>
<p>“Your house didn’t look like this when I picked you up, did it?” asked Darryl, looking to the other dads for reassurance.</p>
<p>“No no no,” said Glenn, still looking for the one wrong detail, the thing that meant it was fake. “The Crash Pad was in Nashville, back when I was growin’ up with my pops.”</p>
<p>“You’re from Nashville?” asked Henry, to which Ron followed up very quickly with, “You don’t even have an accent!”</p>
<p>Glenn took a half step forward and then a half step back. “Nah, we moved to Nashville for the studios- Why am I even talkin’ about this like it’s a real thing?! This isn’t real! The Crash Pad’s back in our world, it can’t be here!”</p>
<p>Henry scratched the back of his neck. “I dunno, Glenn. It looks awfully real.”</p>
<p>To test this reality, Darryl kicked up a chunk of grass. “Ground’s real.”</p>
<p>Without warning, Glenn felt a hand clasp his own. “Glenn and I are real,” verified Ron. He gave Glenn’s hand a comforting squeeze.</p>
<p>It was more awkward than comforting, but the intention was there.</p>
<p>Sure, it all looked real, and it all seemed to feel real, but this had to be fake. Another illusion, another deception check, another hood that just needed to be pulled back. Aliens were real; this shit wasn’t.</p>
<p>So he jerked away from Ron’s hand. He reached for a big rock on the ground, the biggest he could see, and took a step forward, ready to lob that shit right through the window, prove it was all a hoax-</p>
<p>“Woah!” Darryl stepped in the way, too imposing for Glenn to try to force himself past. “Hey, hold on there, Glenn.”</p>
<p>“I know this has to bring up a lot of emotions for you ‘cause it sounds like you and your dad had a bit of a rough time, but we’ve gotta keep a level head here for a second, alright?” Henry didn’t try to take the rock from Glenn, but he sure looked like he was about to.</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, let’s dad huddle,” said Darryl, reaching his arms out to bring the rest of the dads in close.</p>
<p>Surprisingly, Ron was the first to speak up: “If this is your old house, could you possibly draw us a picture or a- a sort of blueprint of the Crash Pad, Glenn?”</p>
<p>“Good idea, Ron.” Henry nodded with enthusiasm, looking towards Glenn. He even picked up a long crooked stick by his feet and offered it up. “That way, if we have to go inside, we at least won’t get lost. And if- if it’s not the way you remember it, we’ll know it’s fake, okay?”</p>
<p>Glenn was less than thrilled about how Henry’s pacifying tactics, but he wasn’t wrong. Empirical evidence was the cornerstone of any good conspiracy, including knowing the melting point of steel beams. He took the stick with a deep breath and started to roughly sketch in the dirt in the middle of the huddle.</p>
<p>“Do we want to look for a back door?” asked Darryl, looking around the group and starting to glance towards the house itself.</p>
<p>“Well, I was thinking,” Henry began hesitantly, “that if, and this is just a thought, but if, Darryl, if your dad was kinda… y’kno, like, <em>in</em> the Supperbowl, and if my dad had my anchor, then, is it possible that- Glenn, do you think it’s possible that your dad’s here?”</p>
<p>Glenn scoffed as he finished off the west wing of the house. “Nah, Bill was never home before. I wouldn’t expect him to be now.”</p>
<p>“But Erin said Nick’s-“</p>
<p>“Yeah, but she didn’t say anything about Bill.”</p>
<p>The diagram began to get its front porch.</p>
<p>“Hey, Glenn, you, uh, you haven’t talked about your pops much,” Darryl said, breaking an awkward silence. “You said he wasn’t great, but, um, what- what happened between you guys?”</p>
<p>“Nothing.”</p>
<p>The front porch expanded into a closet and what looked to be a small office.</p>
<p>“Something had to have happened if you guys had such a big falling out, right?” asked Henry.</p>
<p>“No, literally nothing happened,” said Glenn, this time the words a bit sharper. “Like I said, he wasn’t around. Not much to fuck up when you’re never there.”</p>
<p>Ron, quietly: “But, do you maybe wish he’d been there more? Maybe?”</p>
<p>The lines on the diagram got a little deeper. “I dunno, maybe. I barely know what he’s even like.”</p>
<p>“Seems like maybe he’s a little like you,” said Ron, staring intently at the drawing.</p>
<p>The stick stopped dead. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean, Ron?”</p>
<p>“I think what Ron means,” Henry stepped in quickly before the stick ended up in someone’s spleen, “is to ask that maybe do you think – and I’m just putting this out there – but do you think that maybe Nick wishes you were around more?”</p>
<p>Glenn’s white-knuckle grip on the stick loosened. “I dunno. He’s been good at takin’ care of himself since, y’kno, since we lost Morgan… He’s been fine.”</p>
<p>“How’d you guys handle that? As a- As a family?”</p>
<p>“Well, we- we had like a service and stuff…”</p>
<p>Henry grimaced. “No, Glenn, I mean like-“</p>
<p>Darryl jumped in with, “I think Henry’s asking how you talked to Nick about it. Y’kno, like- like we had to talk to Grant about when his dog died and explain to him that- that souls go to Heaven and look down on us and stuff.”</p>
<p>Glenn finished off the diagram, rounding out the back of the house with something that may have resembled a kitchen. Under his breath, he answered, “…well, I had to get back on tour with the band pretty quick after ‘cause it was right around Thanksgiving… and the bills weren’t gonna pay themselves…”</p>
<p>Henry put a gentle hand on Glenn’s shoulder. “It sounds like you did what you had to,” he resigned with a half-nod. “But, now that you don’t have the band, you’ll be able to be there for Nick, and I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”</p>
<p>He did not like being reminded that the Glenn Close Trio was trying to get Glenn Close the Actress to be their new frontman.</p>
<p>“So, what if Bill <em>is</em> here?” asked Darryl, starting to cock his head at the blueprints Glenn had drawn. “Does he have, like, a weakness or something that we can use against him?”</p>
<p>“He won’t be here,” said Glenn as he tossed the stick back towards the Station Wagon.</p>
<p>“I mean, none of our dads were supposed to be here,” said Ron with a frown hidden partially by his mustache. “Well, except maybe Henry’s dad, but my dad died on his fishing boat, so he’s not even supposed to be alive.”</p>
<p>“How about we just pose a theoretical conspiracy theory here, Glenn, of ‘What If’?” Henry shrugged a bit. “So, <em>if</em> your dad, Bill, is here, what does he hate more than anything else?”</p>
<p>“He would hate being here,” repeated an irritated Glenn. “He was always trying to get famous by any quick scheme he could, usually as some lame artist’s producer. He had horrible taste in music, couldn’t even name one Eagles song.”</p>
<p>“So he wasn’t exactly livin’ life in the fast lane, huh?”</p>
<p>There was a loud collective groan from the group.</p>
<p>As the ringing in their ears from the dad joke ended, there was another sound: the loud banging of a storm door clattering open.</p>
<p>On the porch of the Crash Pad stood two figures. One was taller with broad shoulders and a joint with spiralling smoke tucked into the corner of a crooked smile. The other was smaller and much more familiar: Nick Close.</p>
<p>With a hand tight on Nick’s shoulder to the point where his jean jacket appeared rumpled, Bill Close pulled the joint from his lips and blew out a long puff of smoke in a perfect O-shape. And then his eyes locked with Glenn’s.</p>
<p>“Hey there, Tiger.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter is currently in the works. It's gonna get tricky to write here, guys, gals, and nonbinary pals, 'cause we have seen Bill Close all of ONCE. So here's hoping I have remembered everything I could to make this as accurate as possible prior to the second Glenn arc actually starting!</p>
<p>HMU at skylarkevanson on tumblr</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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